


Double Date

by MlleMusketeer



Series: The Quality of Mercy: Supplemental Materials [2]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alien Culture, Culture Shock, Date Night, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Pop Culture, movies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MlleMusketeer/pseuds/MlleMusketeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Fowler's job sometimes means it's hard to attend to personal matters. Fortunately, Optimus Prime has no desire to create difficulties for his human friend. Unfortunately, safety always takes priority.</p><p>Set between A Pound of Flesh and Nearest the Spark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Date

The concept of a date took little explaining. Cybertronians at least had some equivalent to romantic relationships. 

The concept that, even on a first date, two humans might not like the idea of the Autobots tagging along took considerably more. So much more that eventually Agent Fowler gave up, and silently thanked any listening deity that he’d chosen the old drive-in on the base, where the other patrons wouldn’t look askance at unusual attendees. 

“We will give you as much privacy as possible,” said Optimus, who had at least the grace to look reluctant about it. “However, I do not like the possibility that MECH is still a viable organization; still less that you and Nurse Darby will be in such a scantly populated area without at least some protection.”

Fowler almost pointed out that they would be surrounded by serving members of the United States military, and no, they couldn’t all be MECH, but refrained. Firstly, it would open a whole new can of worms, and secondly, if Prime wanted so badly to see some silly Earth musical, on his own metal head be it. 

They set the kids up at June’s house with pizza and a movie of their own, the TV dragged out into the garage so Arcee, stuck with guard duty for the night, could join in. 

Things went as most first dates did, except with far more interesting anecdotes and a lot of checking out the window of the restaurant to make sure that Prime hadn’t gotten _too_ nervous and decided to check up on them earlier in the evening than promised. But he was true to his word and it was only after the opening credits rolled that there was a great clatter from behind the booth and two blue lights appeared in the rearview mirror. Fowler and June ignored them as best they could, June saying over the sudden din of the rest of the Autobots arriving, “I know Jack really doesn’t like ABBA, but every time I hear it it yanks me right back to college. It’s wonderful.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Fowler, who normally wouldn’t have admitted having such a soft spot to _anyone_. He relaxed back into the car seat and reached for the popcorn. 

And then, drowning out the exuberant squeals of the main characters, came the sound of an enormous flight engine, and with another cacophony of shifting metal, another pair of lights joined the group in the mirror. 

These ones were red. 

“I am _never_ going to get used to that,” said Fowler, looking over his shoulder. 

“Me neither,” said June. “Let’s just...watch the movie, shall we?

* * *

The title of the movie had only just appeared on the screen, and already Optimus was utterly confused. This state was not helped by the ping of inquiry that Megatron sent him, something that rapidly turned amused when Optimus responded with his location. 

_Is human culture really that interesting?_

Optimus stared levelly at the screen, where a character had just launched into a song about her father, though the terminology was vague enough that it could have been about a lover. _Mostly, it is confusing. But I do not wish to leave our allies without some measure of protection should MECH decide to—_

_Enough,_ said Megatron. _I will join you._

_That’s not a good idea._

But Megatron ignored him. The force of his landing made the picture jump, and Optimus hoped it didn’t upset the humans too much. 

They stood there in silence for a while, watching the story unfold. A farce, involving much squealing and shrieking and all centered around the human equivalent of a bonding ritual, only there seemed to be some sort of legal involvement and confusion between the relatives of the femme involved. Optimus found himself even more lost, despite his passing acquaintance with human culture.

Megatron’s field had shaded deeply into a sort of confused horror. 

_So the human sparkling is getting bonded,_ he sent. _And her carrier is not sure of which of three possible sires is the true one, am I correct? And somehow this is at once shameful and important?_

_As far as I can tell_.

A pause. _Is it usual for humans to spontaneously produce music?_

_It is, I believe, a staple of this particular genre of human drama._

Megatron fell silent, and remained that way for another megacycle, as they watched the antics of humans on an alien shore where war was not even a distant memory, and the greatest difficulty social mishap. Most of the humor did not translate. Some of it did—finally, Megatron let out a snort of amusement and sent, _Ah. I understand. It has to do with human interfacing protocols._

Optimus peered at the screen, where a human femme somewhere in the middle of her life cycle firmly rejected the advances of a much younger mech. Something clicked. _Oh_. 

_Oh, indeed. Really, Optimus, must we waste our time on such...drivel?_ The sending was thick with implication. Optimus glanced down at Bumblebee and Bulkhead, who were deeply engrossed in the story.

It was deeply tempting.

* * *

Somewhere before the wedding, a glance in the mirror showed the number of optics to be decreased by two sets, one blue, one red. Agent Fowler relaxed. 

Onscreen, the characters toasted and sang about life and he reached for the popcorn again and encountered June’s hand instead. She didn’t move it. Neither did he.

In the little government-issue car, the world was briefly perfect. Agent Fowler wondered if he should wish Prime similar luck with his date. 

No. The big fellow probably didn’t need it. 


End file.
